A Ghost of Guilt
by Blackwolf-20
Summary: Carol never gave a whole lot of thought about Sam, but after his death, she finds herself haunted with sights of a sometimes bloodied little boy standing off in the distance. And sometimes said boy appears quite normal, smiling and asking for cookies. Is she hallucinating or has she suddenly developed a sixth sense?
**Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead**

Though Sam wasn't a character I was greatly fond of, I did become a bit intrigued by his relationship with Carol and hoped to see more of it. Unfortunately Sam didn't make it, so I guess Carol is destined not to really have a bond with any kid. But here, Carol is forced to see more of Sam whether she wants to or not.

This was inspired by episode "Not Tomorrow Yet" where we saw in the opening Carol visiting Sam's grave. I was also a little inspired by message boards where people blamed Carol for getting Sam killed when she gave him that warning.

 **A Ghost of Guilt**

 **She remembered not knowing what to feel when Rick told them what happened after the walker slaughter. "They didn't make it," he'd said after someone had asked about Jessie and her family. They had all been grouped together in Deanna's living room, to learn who'd made it and what the next step was.**

 **Carol remembered feeling a twist in her gut upon hearing what happened to the Anderson family. Rick wasn't descriptive about the details. He didn't need to be. The simple sentence said it all. She could tell from the look on his face, as well as Michonne's, that they'd died in the worst way possible. Suddenly she had recalled the warning she had told Sam, about being eaten alive by the monsters and she had to know if he had really met his demise that way.**

 **When Rick finished answering questions and discussing what he needed to, Carol stopped him before he could go back to Carl's side.**

" **Rick," she'd said quietly so no one else could hear, "what…exactly happened to Sam."**

 **She asked it, while wondering why she felt she needed to know. Rick, still bloody and pale from the fight stared at her as if he was offended at her for prying. But then he turned away as he spoke.**

" **He panicked." Even Rick was sickened at having to vocalize it. "He just, came to a stop and, they were on him." The twist in her gut deepened. "Jessie tried…she tried to get him to go,…and then she couldn't. They got her." Carol shut her eyes as she took it all in. She felt sick. "Ron, it's not Michonne's fault…not his either. He blamed me…was going to kill me. She-"**

" **I know." Carol stopped him then glanced over at Michonne who appeared to be deep in thought on the chair. She knew without Rick having to explain what had happened to Ron. She took a deep breath and forced herself together. "She did the right thing. You guys made it, even if they couldn't. There was nothing you could do."**

 **He gave a slight nod and she gave him what she hoped was a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. Then she watched him wander away to be near his son. She hadn't known what to feel.**

 **The next day, the Alexandrians had their funeral for the Andersons, though there was really not much left to bury. They included Deanna as well, though no one could locate her body. Carol attended and stood close to the back. She stood next to Rick who seemed out of it, so she wanted to be a form of comfort. Carol hadn't seen their remains being placed into the ground. The only ones who had were responsible for the burial, and it was clear who had done it, considering the white faces. Rick, she was certain, had been one of the ones responsible.**

 **She hadn't said anything as Gabriel spoke over their graves. Instead she stood still and tried not to think of her own lost child, as well as Mika, and Lizzie. She closed her eyes and wondered why children had to die in such horrible ways; why they couldn't be strong enough to survive this world. Then her eyes fell on the name on the wooden tombstone; she felt empty.**

 **Time passed where the Alexandrians were able to move on. The walls were rebuilt. Life was returning to normal, but not for Carol.**

 **She couldn't sleep.**

 **It seemed as of late the sounds of a little boy's laughter drifted every now and then throughout the house. The first time she heard it, naturally she investigated with her gun at the ready. She followed it into her living room, then into the kitchen where it ended. She'd been confused by it and in the end decided her mind was trying to play tricks.**

 **But then the same thing happened the next night, and the night after that.**

 **She couldn't take it. She got up and investigated once more, but this time she took a different approach. She headed down the stairs, gun at the ready as usual, but she paused halfway. Though she knew it was insane, she called out with much uncertainty.**

" **Sam?"**

 **The laughing stopped.**

 **She continued to investigate, feeling not only bewildered, but very frightened.**

 **No one was in the house by the time she finished searching. Still feeling uneasy, she turned and headed for her bedroom, just as she heard her front door slam shut. She hurried to the door, now convinced she wasn't losing her mind and that there had been someone prowling around. But she didn't catch the prowler. It didn't make any sense anyhow. She kept her home secure enough to prevent break-ins. No one would have been able to sneak in, especially a child.**

 **Now it was quiet. Now Carol didn't hear the laughing. It was just eerily silent.**

 **She visited Sam's grave the following day and simply stood there, wondering if somehow the little pest had intruded her space. While she stood there, she kept telling herself it was stupid. She didn't believe in ghosts. When people died they were gone, but she couldn't help frowning at the grave in anger. Then she looked up and gasped.**

 **There, standing across the yard was a boy facing sideways, staring off into the distance. The side of his head was bloody and had a deep sunken gash. Rivers of blood ran down his arm and down the already bloodied bed sheet he was wearing. And then, he turned what was left of his face towards Carol, who stumbled back and choked.**

" **Oh god."**

 **She had to turn away and shut her eyes. She _was_ losing her mind. **

**After a moment she gathered herself together and looked back. The partially devoured boy was gone.**

 **Carol was shaken for the rest of the day. She tried not to let it show, but it was apparent to those who came across her.**

" **Carol?"**

 **She didn't respond to Rick's calls until he grabbed her shoulder.**

" **Carol." She felt lost and cold. "You alright?"**

" **Yes," she lied as she brought up her false smile. "I'm alright. I'm fine."**

 **She was good at putting on an impression, so she did it for Rick to avoid having to explain what she had seen. After Rick nodded she walked away and was careful to keep her eyes away from the graveyard.**

 **Carol refused to leave her home the next day. She stayed tense and alert. When she prepared her lunch, her hands shook slightly and it was really starting to piss her off.**

 **After dropping a knife from cutting carrots over the sink, she gripped the edge of the counter and just tried to slow her nervous breathing.**

" **Stop it!" she yelled at herself. "You didn't see him. You're okay, you're not going crazy."**

 **She bent down to pick up the knife and when she turned around, she saw him.**

 **Sam was standing behind the kitchen's island looking absolutely normal. He had a slight smile on his face as he looked at her.**

 **Carol stared, wide-eyed, as she moved slowly to a standing position against the sink.**

" **Do you have any more of those cookies?" he asked, as if this had been a regular visit. As if he wasn't dead.**

 **Carol said nothing. She just stared back at him warily. Sam certainly didn't appear to be a figment of her imagination. He looked solid and real.**

" **If you don't, can I help you make some? I help my mom sometimes. I could help you."**

" **Wha..what are you doing here?" she rasped.**

" **I was hungry," Sam explained simply, with a shrug. "I thought you might have some."**

" **No." Carol would not believe this. It wasn't possible.**

" **If you don't have some-"**

" **No, you're dead. You can't be here."**

 **Suddenly his expression fell.**

 **The smile was gone, and now Sam was staring back at her, standing as still as a statue. Carol couldn't look away. She was too frightened to do anything else. This was a whole new level of undead that she had no experience with.**

" **That's not a nice thing to say." It came out cold in Sam's voice and a shiver ran down Carol's spine.**

 **She opened her mouth to say more, but he turned and left the kitchen. A few seconds later she heard the front door open and close.**

 **Carol didn't move for several minutes. Instead, she stood there, telling herself she had not seen him. She had not talked to him. He had not been there. But when she dropped her eyes to the island's counter-top and saw the fingerprints, she wasn't sure of anything anymore.**

 **Days passed and it was never certain when she would see phantom images of the boy. If she was lucky, she went a whole day without hearing him asking for cookies or knocking on the window and waving. When she wasn't lucky, she saw his bloodied form standing a good distance away, staring at her.**

 **There was always more blood running down the gashes in his head and the side of his face. Carol would freeze and gaze back at him, determined not to be afraid. He never looked at her as if he was angry; as if he somehow blamed her. He just looked at her, with a blank expression.**

" **You're not there," she would say under her breath, and somethings he would turn and walk away, conveniently disappearing behind a tree or house. Other times, he wouldn't move at all, so Carol had to hurry from his sight.**

 **After a while she went to Denise and concocted her own forms of hallucinations in order to receive meds. They never helped, no matter how many she swallowed.**

 **At night she was forced to hear his laughter ringing through her house again. This time she didn't investigate. She quietly pleaded for him to leave, her face scrunched up in exhaustion and sorrow.**

 **And then, the laughter transformed into an agonizing scream.**

 **It was too much. She covered her ears and cowered under the covers. She had wanted to know how Sam had died, but she did not want to hear it.**

 **She couldn't take it. She burst into tears as she imagined his horrible death; as she thought of how Sophia must have felt when she had been bitten and turned.**

 **Everyone was clearly aware that Carol was not well, but she refused to break before them. How could she? She wasn't about to tell anyone that the reason she was not well was because she was being haunted by a little boy she tried to keep at a distance; a boy she still tried to keep at a distance, but he was impossible to ignore.**

 **But then came several days where she did not see him. He did not come around seeking cookies while she forced herself not to look around or respond. When those days arrived she thought she was finally free. Her punishment was over.**

 **But then he returned.**

 **She was about to leave the house when she saw him, sitting outside on the steps. It was the less gruesome version of himself where he wasn't bleeding and falling apart.**

 **His back faced her and he was sitting so still. As quietly as she could, she stepped outside and glanced around. With no one else around, she turned her attention back to Sam.**

" **Why did you come back?" she asked quietly. He didn't stir, but she knew he heard her. "Are you punishing me? Is that was this is?" Still no answer. Carol forced her fear of the child aside. "Are you blaming me…for your death?"**

 **At last there was a slight shake in his shoulder, but he did not turn around to face her. Carol looked around again, then started descending the steps, stopping when she stood right beside him.**

" **Why are you here?"she asked firmly.**

 **He turned around and gazed up at her now, with a serious expression plastered across his face.**

" **I couldn't protect mom," he said softly. "I couldn't protect myself."**

" **Why, are you here?" she repeated. She could never get over how alive he looked. His innocent blue eyes looking at her made her believe that they were all wrong somehow and that he hadn't actually died.**

" **I liked you." He didn't smile when he said it. His face remained serious, the way it had after he had asked for a gun. Carol didn't know what to say to his response. Instead, she just kept gazing back. "It's okay to let go."**

 **A little shock ran up her spine at his next words. Somehow she knew he was referring to the other fears she was starting to receive, concerning the killings she and the others had to constantly struggle with.**

" **I did, let go," she lied, but Sam gave a shake of his head.**

" **It's going to get worse."**

" **What do you mean?"**

 **Sam stood without taking his eyes off of her. Then he stepped down to the ground. Carol watched his every move feeling anxious. For what felt like an eternity, he stared back at her, with a haunted blank look.**

" **You can let go now."**

 **Carol felt a weight rise from her heart at the same time she felt a deep sorrow filling the space. Then Sam smiled at her.**

" **Thanks for the cookies."**

 **He turned and skipped away, as if he was still present in Alexandria. Carol watched him go, not wanting him to leave. It wasn't really until then that she understood how much she had cared about the boy. There was no denying it. She had kept him at arm's length in life, but somehow he had managed to get under her skin.**

 **He had died and she had felt the weight of it, but now, he had told her she could let go. It was time to let go, again.**

 **More time passed where she found herself avoiding Morgan. He was a man who believed every life was precious. She stood there, partially explaining why she kept his secret from the others. In the back of her mind, she thought about how Sam's life had been precious. Morgan kept on, but she didn't want to do this, not now. Morgan didn't understand. She had to carry it. She had to carry all of it, even if she was told she didn't have to.**

 **She sent him away and stared at the small mound of dirt at the boy's grave. Whenever she could she had wandered over to it, because it was the only way she could see him now. And whenever she did, she couldn't help wondering why it had been him. Why had he captured her attention? Why did he have to suffer a horrible death? Why couldn't he have been here now?**

 **He never returned to answer her questions. Never came by to ask for cookies.**

 **He didn't have to. She always knew.**

 **With a feeling of loss, she walked away, leaving two freshly baked cookies on his gave for him to enjoy.**

Once again I found Carol's relationship with Sam curious, so after the episodes with scenes of them together I sought out fanfics centering on their relationship, but found none. I thought of making such a fanfic a while ago but didn't get around to it. Then I was left wondering how Carol felt and reacted to his death and after seeing the scene of her leaving those cookies for him I formed my own idea. I know they weren't ever close, but she could still feel something. She did go as far as to make sure Pete was dealt with when he expressed that his mother was being abused.

For the fanfic, I did plan a scene where Carol was in danger of getting attacked by a walker and Sam just shows up to warn her. There was also a case of her wondering if Sam was trying or hoping she'd be killed in that instance and her asking him that. But I wanted the story to flow in a more simple and spiritual way. I also didn't want it to look like a case of revenge. I like the idea that she might have really seen Sam's ghost or a hallucination, like how Rick felt he really saw and spoke with Lori after her death.

No matter the thoughts on Sam as a character, I found it unsettling to watch him get eaten alive.

Hope you enjoyed. Maybe this will inspire a few fanfics on Carol and Sam.


End file.
